


Undisclosed Desires

by Shadaras



Series: a lioness' pride [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/F, Missing Scene, Under-negotiated Kink, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 00:19:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8919196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/pseuds/Shadaras
Summary: A conversation, an offer of a shower, and sex.





	

****Leia finds Jyn sitting on one of the broad steps of the Massassi pyramid the Rebellion had repurposed into their base. She’s looking out over the jungles, up at the sometimes-oppressive bulk of Yavin itself burning overhead. Leia hesitates; from what Bail told her, Jyn’s life got turned upside down in the last week, and that’s not easy to recover from. But being alone in the Rebellion isn’t good for anyone, so Leia sits down next to Jyn, keeping just enough space that she isn’t likely to cause any instinctive violent reaction.

Jyn doesn’t even look at her. “Fuck off.”

“I’m not here to fetch you,” Leia says, pointedly not looking at Jyn. She leans forward, looking down at the bright orange whisper birds soaring around the temple. “I like it up here. It’s quiet.”

It isn’t, really; the jungle’s a riot of life, and though they’re above the canopy the noises still ring skyward, and the vines and little creatures that nest on the temples themselves just add to the impression.

Jyn snorts. “There aren’t any pointless debates going on, you mean?”

“Pointless?” Leia glances at Jyn. Her ragged layers of clothing might hide many things, but it doesn’t hide the tension in her posture.

“This isn’t the time for debate or _negotiation_.” Jyn spits out the word like a curse. “We need to _do_ something.”

Leia looks more closely at Jyn. The shadows under her eyes are normal. Leia isn’t sure when she’s last seen someone in the Rebellion without them, save perhaps her father and Mon Mothma and the others who work in and among the Empire. The ragged look of her hair might seem intentional, but Leia knows about buns and that one done as neatly and tightly as Jyn’s shouldn’t have so many flyaways. “When was the last time you ate?”

Jyn turns to her for the first time, and Leia rocks back, her own eyes widening at the depths of _pain_ echoing in Jyn’s face. “Why do you care?” she demands, leaning forward even as Leia leans back. “You’ve never seen me before. I’m not part of your rebellion.”

“You’re part of _a_ rebellion, if you’re going to _do something_ ,” Leia snaps, the words coming out before she can quite decide if it’s a good idea. “Maybe it’s not mine, but you’re an ally, and we _are_ an alliance.” She pauses, grimaces, and amends, “We’re supposed to be an alliance.”

Thankfully, Jyn laughs, and it’s croaking and sounds like she hasn’t made any sound like that in weeks at least, but Leia doesn’t comment. She just watches, and waits, as Jyn’s eyes spark with water that she’s pretty sure Jyn’s going to refuse to acknowledge. Eventually, Jyn says, “How’d you even get involved? You dress like  _them_.”

Leia sighs, and rubs at her earrings. She forgets about them, but they’re a status symbol. “I work in the senate. I’m on leave with my family right now, and my family’s been with the Rebel Alliance since its beginning.” She’s not lying. She’s gotten very good at _not lying_. Telling the whole truth would send Jyn running, she’s almost certain, and she doesn’t want that.

Jyn nods. “You don’t have much space here.”

“If you want a shower, I’ve got a room,” Leia offers, before quite thinking things through. It’s true, though. “My family’s more involved in admin; nobody else will be around.”

Jyn looks at her, a smile tugging at her cheeks, and Leia runs back through what she just said. She blushes, just a little, but meets Jyn’s eyes. If Jyn wants to read that as a proposition… she’s not altogether _wrong_ , even if that hadn’t been what she’d meant to imply. She’s not against the idea — not once Jyn gets cleaned up, and isn’t coated in dirt and grief.

Leia stands, and offers Jyn her hand. Her heart’s beating in her throat, but Jyn takes her hand and lets her feel like she’s helping. Jyn’s half a head taller than she is, and her hand’s rough with calluses and scars, but her touch is gentle, and that smile’s making her look her proper age. Jyn shakes her head, and says, “What’s your name?”

“Leia.” She hopes the name doesn’t mean anything to Jyn; it’s an uncommon name, even on Alderaan.

“You’re brave, Leia, offering your space to someone you’ve never met before.” Jyn releases her hand. “Lead the way.”

Leia smiles, and walks back into the Rebel base, Jyn’s eyes fixed on her, making the nape of her neck burn. She ignores it, just as she ignores the shiver along her spine, because for once the feeling of being watched — of being _examined_ — is pleasant, and from an interesting source.

Neither of them say anything as they wend through the base. The design is simple enough, but there are never quite enough signs; Leia knows the way only because she’s walked it enough times since they claimed it, and is sure she still doesn’t know all the nooks and crannies that the rebel agents stationed on Yavin IV full-time do. Jyn sticks right by her, just far enough back that Leia can’t easily see her in peripheral vision. It’s disconcerting, because Leia knows that it’s the best way for her to be followed, but Jyn is following her for a mundane, prosaic, purpose.

Leia shoves the thought aside as she opens the door to the small suite that she and her father use when at this base. It’s only three rooms — sitting room, bedroom with two beds, and bathroom — but in comparison to many rooms at the base, it’s large. Jyn’s looking around like didn’t expect something this nice, and Leia clears her throat before she can think about why she feels embarrassed. “Shower’s through that door. Don’t worry about water — that’s one of the nice things about living on-planet.”

Jyn gives her a nod and that odd half-smile again and then disappears. The water turns on quickly, and all that’s left for Leia to do is wait.

Waiting is the worst. It takes Jyn half an hour to emerge, and in that time Leia tells her father where she and Jyn are, paces around the room five times, and then drapes herself over a chair and manages to read halfway through the mission briefing her father sent her. Something about a mercy mission to Tatooine, which is a cover for a more interesting mission contacting a retired general from the Clone Wars.

The briefing is just getting interesting when the water shuts off. Leia closes the briefing and replaces it with an Imperial news feed. It’s also something she should be keeping track of, since it’s important for her to know what the Empire’s propaganda is, but it’s far less interesting, since she knows more or less what it’s going to tell her. She’s scrolling through it, scanning each story for maybe five seconds before moving on to the next, when Jyn emerges, wearing the same outfit (but cleaner; Jyn probably ran it through the sonic cleanser) and with wet hair slick against her neck.

Leia doesn’t realise she’s staring until Jyn raises her eyebrows. “Didn’t think I had skin under the dirt, princess?” she asks, and Leia’s pretty sure she doesn’t know that Leia actually _is_ a princess, because her tone couldn’t have been that sarcastic and light on the _princess_ otherwise.

Quickly, she shakes her head. “You look... relaxed. It’s nice.”

She’s not lying; Jyn’s posture is looser and her eyes aren’t as strained, and it _is_ nice. The lines of her cheekbones and the way her hair clings to her neck are even nicer.

Jyn smiles. “Were you just offering me a shower and a break—” her voice drops in both pitch and volume “—or did you actually mean something else?”

Leia’s turns off her datapad and sets it aside. Her body’s alight with nerves as she stands and says, “My bed’s over here. If you’re interested.”

The way Jyn paces towards her is like a predator: slow, careful, every muscle precisely controlled, and eyes fixed on hers so that she can’t look away. “If you’re certain? Yes.”

“Yes,” Leia says, holding her ground, letting the lightning rush through her and ground her even as she starts feeling like she’s floating. “I’m sure.”

Jyn kisses her, sharp and sudden, teeth dragging against her lip, and Leia closes her eyes, grabbing hold of Jyn’s shoulders because they’re the only thing keeping her upright. She draws a breath that’s really more of a gasp, and kisses back; Jyn’s more experienced than her but that doesn’t matter when her fingers dig into Jyn’s neck and she feels Jyn shiver.

“Guess you haven’t been _that_ sheltered.” Jyn’s breath is on her lips, her cheek, her ear, warm and quick. “Good. I’d hate to make you feel spoilt.”

Leia pulls back and grins, showing all her teeth. “You won’t spoil me,” she says, sure as the wind and stars. “Come here.” She backs into the bedroom, turning to her right so that she’s heading towards her bed. It’s smaller than her father’s, but there is no way she’s trysting with someone on her father’s bed; that would be weird and wrong on many levels.

Jyn follows her, and shuts the door to the sitting room with a quick slap of her hand. The lights in the bedroom are dimmer. Leia breathes in, forcing her heart to calm, but it only works so much before her legs hit her bed and she stops, transfixed, as Jyn stalks closer. She’s shedding her scarf and her jacket, leaving them on the ground. Her shirt clings to her damp skin, showing off every movement she makes. Jyn stops one step away from her and takes off her boots without breaking eye contact.

Leia doesn’t move, not until Jyn — now barefoot — steps tight against her, so that she’s balanced between the other woman and her bed. She grabs hold of Jyn’s belt, and stares determinedly into Jyn’s eyes, daring her to make her move.

“Not to be spoiled, is that it?” Jyn’s smile turns almost feral.

She’s far too aware of every breath she takes, and of the way her clothing falls against her skin. The world is almost too clear, and Jyn’s smile is at the center of that, sharp and biting. Leia says, her voice ringing loud in her ears, “No.”

“Tell me if I push too far,” Jyn orders.

Leia nods, and then she’s on the bed, lying diagonally across it with Jyn’s hands on her upper arms, pinning her, and Jyn’s teeth on her neck, biting harsh and heavy. Leia pushes up against Jyn, but all that gets her is a laugh, dark and cutting, and Jyn sitting up so that Leia notices how her legs are caught just as firmly as her arms.

All that means is that she needs to change her strategy, if she wants to fight this. And she does; there’s very little in life worth doing without fighting for it, and that includes pleasure. She relaxes, just for a moment, and is rewarded by Jyn’s hands loosening. In the microsecond before Jyn realises what she’s doing, Leia yanks her arms free and sits up, so that she’s pressing against Jyn’s chest. “Never said I wouldn’t resist.”

Jyn growls, and Leia feels it against her chest. She slides her still-free hands under Jyn’s shirt, and then drags them sharply up Jyn’s spine. Jyn’s harsh “ _Fuck_ ” makes Leia smile, and she quickly undoes Jyn’s bra before Jyn can think to stop her.

“If that’s the game we’re playing...” Jyn pulls her shirt and bra off in one quick movement, and then sits back so that Leia’s free. “Go on,” she says, gesturing at Leia’s dress. “It’s only fair.”

It’s not, and they both know it. Leia glares at Jyn, and Jyn looks back, implacable. The longer it lasts, the more Leia wants to drop her gaze, submit to the game they’re playing without words or discussion. The more she feels that way, the stronger her resolve grows: just because she wants to give in doesn’t mean she will, not without more of a fight.

Technically, Jyn breaks first. She sighs, and manages to infuse it with so much disappointment Leia almost gives in right then and there. Then, when Leia still doesn’t move, Jyn shifts forward and grabs Leia by the shoulder, pulling her over onto her lap. Leia’s dress rides up some, and before she can do anything about it, Jyn’s hand is on the back of her neck, pressing her head — but not quite her face — into the bedspread. Jyn’s other hand is pulling her dress further up, until Leia can feel it all piled up around her stomach, where it’s really catching on Jyn’s legs, and her upper back, where it’s partially catching on Jyn’s arm.

She is, Leia realises, breath coming quick and body flushing with warmth, trapped.

She almost hates how good it feels, knowing that there isn’t really anything she can do about her position. She almost hates the way that Jyn’s running her fingers along the backs of her thighs, feather-light and too gentle. She almost hates it, but it’s more the waiting that she hates than the position, and so she hisses, “Are you fucking me, punishing me, or just playing with me?”

Jyn laughs, and her fingers pause. “Do I need to pick one?”

She sounds genuinely curious, and Leia needs to force herself to think about the answer she chooses. She closes her eyes, and says, very quietly, letting herself slip into the formalities of her upbringing, “You do not.”

There’s a blossom of pain, quick and bright, on her thigh, and Leia yelps even as she realises that Jyn had pinched her fairly gently. “Good,” Jyn says, and there’s so much satisfaction in her voice that Leia’s hands tighten involuntarily in the blanket they’ve tangled themselves in somehow.

Then there’s no time or space for thought, just sensation and reaction: Jyn’s hands are on her body, and they are all that matter; one anchors her to the bed, to the world; and the other snips, scratches, slaps, and soothes at her skin, alternating in no pattern Leia can parse save that Jyn’s motivation had to be making her whimper and whine and make as much noise as possible.

Jyn never moves her panties. She touches freely across them, but they stay in place, and Leia doesn’t know why and doesn’t care why, She just knows they’re showing Jyn how wet she is, and she’s begging Jyn to touch her, but Jyn’s unmoved. Her craving for being fucked burns inside her, a pit that every single touch adds fuel to, especially when Jyn changes her grip from on Leia’s neck to her hair, so that any time Leia shifts she adds another prick of pain to the medley singing along her lower half.

There’s a pause, and Leia concentrates on breathing. She moves a little, letting her legs drift wider apart in a reminder of what she’s asking Jyn for.

“Patience,” Jyn says, almost absently. The hand in her hair pulls her forwards, until she’s resting her face on her hands. Then Jyn lets go, and Leia freezes for the crucial second that allows Jyn to shift so that she’s sitting on Leia’s legs, instead of Leia resting on hers. Jyn shoves Leia’s dress more fully over her head, and finally unhooks her bra, releasing a tension that Leia had forgotten even existed.

Jyn lays herself down across Leia’s back, and she gasps at the way it feels to have skin dragging against her back; Jyn’s breasts are small, but her nipples are hard, and they’re warmer than the air. Jyn licks at her spine, and then nips, and Leia shudders against the bed. Her hands are still fisted in the blankets, and she bites into the fabric to keep herself from begging any more than she already has, breathing quick and harsh through her nose as Jyn bites up her spine.

The touch of Jyn’s belt against her ass makes Leia buck up, driving herself closer to the rough sensation, trying to angle herself so that one of Jyn’s legs was between hers, so that maybe she could have _some_ bit of release. Jyn laughs against her skin, and one of Jyn’s hands runs along Leia’s side until it curves around her legs. There, Jyn’s hand hesitates, and Leia’s resolve breaks. She pulls her head up, and says, “Please. Just. Fuck me. _Please_.”

“I told you I wouldn’t spoil you.” Jyn’s fingers make a decision, and trace the curve of her buttocks, resting too-lightly against the dampness of her panties so that she knows they’re there but can’t do anything about it. “Are you asking me to change my mind?”

“It’s not fucking spoiling me.” Leia holds herself very still. If she moves, even the almost-promise of Jyn’s fingers will disappear.

Jyn’s hand moves anyway, catching Leia’s hip, and before she can be disappointed in the change, Jyn pulls her over onto her side, one arm sliding under her head and the other fucking _finally_ slipping under her panties.

Leia whines, canting her hips forward, into the still-too-gentle press of Jyn’s fingers.

“Stay still,” Jyn orders, and Leia freezes. Jyn nods against her back. “Help me take your blasted dress off _properly_. You may use your arms.”

Leia does. It’s awkward, on her side, and it’s hard to focus, especially when one of Jyn’s legs wraps around hers, pulling her over even more so that she’s halfway on top of Jyn. But she manages, with Jyn’s help, and only most of a minute of struggling to untangle her dress from her head and hair.

Jyn nips her ear, and murmurs, “Good.”

Leia shivers, but keeps herself still. She’s already lost, but fuck if she’s going to lose without getting something from it, no matter if it means obeying, for once, what she’s told.

Slowly, almost lazily, Jyn’s fingers circle around her cunt. They’re cool, compared to her skin. Her nipples ache, and she wants Jyn to touch them, to pinch and bite the way she’s done for the rest of her body, the way she is still doing on her neck, slow and contemplative and almost gentle compared to the treatment her butt and back got. She won’t ask. Jyn’s other hand is on her lips, pressing in without any insistence, but enough intention that Leia opens her mouth and licks them without question or thought.

Jyn’s fingers enter her mouth and her cunt at the same time, at the same pace, and Leia almost forgets to breathe as she sucks on Jyn’s fingers. Jyn’s almost completely still behind her, now, only the subtle shifting of her arms and hips and the hitch in her breath betraying how invested she was. Leia nibbles on Jyn’s fingers, and the ones in her cunt contract almost violently. Leia moans around Jyn’s fingers, thrusting towards her hand and giving herself up to the sensations completely.

There’s nothing but the warmth of Jyn behind her, the insistence of Jyn’s fingers inside her, the buzz and lightning of pleasure building and building until Leia curls in against Jyn and lets it wash over her, hot and fierce and exhausting. She’s trembling as Jyn pulls her fingers out and wipes them against her blanket, then wraps her in an embrace Leia would resist at any other time, but right now seems like the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

Jyn kisses the nape of her neck, and says, “Good girl.”

Leia wants to protest, but just sighs instead, and turns so that she can see Jyn’s face at all. “Fuck that.”

“I just did, yes.”

Despite herself, Leia laughs, and Jyn’s feline grin returns.

Leia lets Jyn hold her only as long as it takes her muscles to feel like they exist again, and aren’t just theoretical bundles of matter in the sack of her skin. As soon as she can sit up, she does, and she looks at Jyn and shakes her head. “If you want to cleanse yourself again...”

Jyn shrugs. She’s already retying her hair, so that there aren’t any loose ends. “I’ll wash my hands, and take my leave.” Her demeanor is already more formal and wary again. “Thanks.”

“Yes, go ahead,” Leia says, still off-balance. “This was good.”

Jyn pauses in gathering her clothes and turns back to her, a smile peeking out of her mouth. “It was, yeah.”

Leia can’t think of anything to say to that, so she just sits and watches as Jyn leaves, back straight and all her discarded clothes back in her arms.

She waits until she hears the outer door open and shut again before she stands and goes to take her own shower, so that she can return to the more normal world.


End file.
